


Honey

by maryagrawatson



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 06:29:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13025229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maryagrawatson/pseuds/maryagrawatson
Summary: Sherlock and Rosie on a lovely day.





	Honey

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jolie_Black](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jolie_Black/gifts).



Sherlock woke slowly and like he’d done every morning for the last fortnight, he thanked a god he didn’t believe in that he was waking up in his own bed. He sighed contentedly as he enjoyed the weak beams of sunlight streaming through the curtains. He laid there happily for a long while. Just as he was reaching for his phone to text a breakfast order to the café downstairs, the device buzzed with an incoming message. As expected, it was from John.

 

> Nanny had an emergency. Can I drop off Rosie???

 

Sherlock smiled. That was his day sorted.

 

> Have her dressed for the zoo!

 

John texted back a smiley face.

 

So that meant Sherlock at best had thirty minutes. Not enough time for a full breakfast, then. He’d have to make up for it at lunch. He was still struggling to put on weight since his most recent ordeal. Just as he was despairing that perhaps a feeding tube would be the solution, Janine had suddenly shown up on a day trip to the city from Sussex with a haul of honey from her bees. Mixed with butter and spread thickly on soft white bread, it was the only thing Sherlock could stomach easily and accounted for fully half a stone of regained weight. One would think he’d be sick of honey by now, but honey on toast and tea sounded perfect again this morning.

 

He was dressed and ready to go out by the time John and Rosie turned up. He still hadn’t gone back to his suits — it made no sense to have even one fitted to his current frame. So it was jeans and a jumper, sized as small as possible to not look sloppy or make him appear any slighter than he was. Rosie happily jumped into arms and he hauled her up to drop a kiss on the top of her head.

 

“I’ll pick up her around five,” John said wearily.

“Why don’t you let me keep her for tea? Give you time to go for a pint after work?”

John sighed gratefully. “Thank you. Just what I need. Be good for Sherlock, Rosie?”

“Peng-wings,” Rosie said solemnly, as though that were the proper response.

Sherlock chuckled. “That’s right, Rosie, we’re going to see the peng-wings. And maybe tigers too?”

“’Hippos,” she replied imperiously.

Still laughing, Sherlock turned to find John looking at the pair of them oddly. “Everything all right?”

“Better than all right. Have a great day.”

 

Sherlock put Rosie into her pushchair and they set off into an improbably beautiful morning. London had just gone through a particularly long gloomy spell. He could think of nothing better to do on this first lovely day in recent memory than to spend it outside with his goddaughter.

 

They took their time crossing the Regent’s Park, the stroll as much a part of their adventure as the visit to the zoo would be.  Rosie asked to go see the "pretty flowers," which meant a detour through Queen Mary’s Rose Gardens. There, he and Rosie spent almost an hour wandering around looking at all the brightly coloured roses. She liked the orange ones. He was partial to the simplicity of the cream ones.

 

Rosie had been cooped up for days and was happy to be outside. Sherlock let her run and she chased birds. She politely asked passers-by if she could pet their dogs and some said yes. She was happy and her mood lifted more of the fog in Sherlock’s brain. He was going to get through all this, he realised. Things would get better. He would get better.

 

Some missionaries thrust a leaflet into his hands as they passed by and it gave Sherlock an idea. He sat on a bench and pulled Rosie up beside him. "Let me show you how to make a paper aeroplane,” he said, passing her the sheet of paper. Patiently, he showed her how to coax the paper into the right shape. Her chubby little hands, already more of a little girl’s than that of a baby, struggled, but managed. Her folds weren’t precise but she succeeded in the end. Her shriek of delight as she watched her creation sail smoothly through the air to land a short distance away made Sherlock’s heart glad.

 

They made a few modifications to the plane and tested how far it would fly before Sherlock sensed that Rosie had had enough. So he was thinking that perhaps they should continue on to their planned activity when he heard a jingle. Ah, perfection. “How about an ice lolly?” he asked Rosie.

“Red!” was her reply.

 

She had to settle (happily) for a fruit pastille while Sherlock had his usual of a mint Cornetto. Rosie’s treat melted faster than she could lick it, but her ever prepared godfather was on hand with wet wipes, saving her bright pink windbreaker from getting too soiled. Sherlock enjoyed his cone very much and decided that he’d reached a point in his life where there could be little better to do with his time than sit in the sun with his goddaughter and enjoy a frozen treat.

 

Once they’d finished, he did a final pass of her sticky hands. “Ready to go see the penguins now?”

“Peng-wings,” she corrected him.

“Peng-wings it is. And hippos, of course. And can we finish with the tigers, please?”

 

Rosie pretended to think about that for a moment. “Okay!”

**Author's Note:**

> In a conversation with Jolie_Black about her latest story, she longingly asked for a story that featured Sherlock and Rosie doing all the things Sherlock proposed in T6T that could be done on a lovely day. I actually had such a scene written! This ficlet emerged from that scene that is part of a very partially baked story that I may or may not ever finish. After some work, I think it stands shakily on its own.
> 
> The source of the paper for the aeroplane comes from personal experience, after receiving a religious leaflet while out on a walk in England this past spring. Series 4 was still fresh in my mind and I wondered if there was anything to the idea of making a paper airplane on a lovely day. :)
> 
> Finally, I'd like to apologise to Benedict Cumberbatch for joining the fray of folks ridiculing him for his pronunciation of a certain word, but I couldn't resist!


End file.
